


The Taste of Chocolate Lingers

by MusicalDefiance



Series: Pegoryu Week 2018 [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: :3ccccccccc, Accidental Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Rivals, The Pocky Game, akira wants to play a dumb game, dumb feely love shit i thrive off of, game, make out, side eyes canticle, there are two kinds of people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 09:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15167858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalDefiance/pseuds/MusicalDefiance
Summary: "He's not sure what happened. Maybe he miscalculated. Maybe he just took too much at a time. Maybe Akira shifted some. But for whatever reason it may be, that last bite gives him the barest contact with Akira's lips."Day 4: Partners in Crime/Rivals





	The Taste of Chocolate Lingers

**Author's Note:**

> When the Pegoryu Discord mentions the idea of gay pocky, there are two types of people. Me with my fluff, and canticle with... y'know :3c
> 
> Fics from here on out! Enjoy!

“You wanna play a game?” Akira asks out of the blue.

Ryuji sits up on his elbows, the manga he was reading still laying on the floor and partially forgotten, and turns his head to look back at Akira slung lazily across the bed. He looks bored, the book he’d been reading laid across his chest like he hadn’t picked it up in a good few minutes. He’s staring at the ceiling, his glasses hanging off of his face just enough to look uncomfortable.

“What were you thinkin’?” he asks. “I thought we’d gone through pretty much everything you have at this point.”

Akira shakes his head without looking at him, “I dunno, I guess we have already beaten everything, huh?”

“More than once.” Ryuji supplies.

Akira groans, “Yeah but I’m bored.”

“You need to get more games, man.”

“Tell that to your new bat that I bought you three days ago.”

“Whatever.” he scoffs somewhat dismissively. “It’s your own damn fault for trying to read boring books anyways. I told you I had some other mangas in my bag that you can look at.”

Akira sighs and flops his arms to the sides on the bed. “I don’t wanna start a series that I don’t have all the books to, I’ll get too invested and have to go buy them all. I barely have enough money to keep taking care of Phantom Thief stuff as it is.”

“You can just borrow ‘em from me!”

“And be at your mercy to get my entertainment? I don’t think so.” Akira argues, and Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Besides, reading written books is good for you. It helps you gain knowledge and understand writing styles better.”

“You’ve been hangin’ out with Makoto too much, man.”

Akira chuckles, and Ryuji easily joins in, at the same time pushing his body up and sitting more properly on the floor. His body aches some and he’s tired, but he knows that it's from all the Mementos work they’d been doing that week. Getting to spend some downtime with one another like this was probably the most relaxing activity they’d gotten to do in a good few days. Yusuke had even been invited along, but of course he’d had other plans of some sort to attend to (neither of them were sure if they should question it much or not). Morgana was out on his own little adventure for the day too.

Secretly, Ryuji was pretty glad. Akira is _his_ best friend at all, regardless of how anyone else sees him. Getting to spend time with just him was something he craved more than he realized at times, and considering how little they got to actually chill out instead of worrying about some other crisis, it was something he found himself cherishing.

Akira flops his arm off the bed and his hand lands just above the floor, fingertips skimming the old grained wood. “I dunno, we can figure something out can’t we? Maybe find like another game down at the store? I might have enough to splurge for something.”

“You really wanna go out when it’s rainin’ like this?” Ryuji asks, jabbing his thumb towards the window in front of them. Needless to say, the rain outside was torrential. “If I know Akira Kurusu, it’s that he hates getting his hair wet. You’re worse than Mona sometimes I swear.”

Akira pouts, “You’d complain too if your hair was even half as thick as mine.”

“Whatever, man.” he waves off, reaching his body over to his bag laying nearby on the floor and grabbing it, letting the canvas slide with him as he pulls himself back up. “I think it has a lot more to do with you bein’ a drama queen, but to each their own I guess.”

Akira’s top half shoots off the bed in a blinding motion, “ _Me_ , dramatic? Where in the world did you get an idea like that?” he demands, fingers splayed against his chest.

Ryuji chuckles, pulling a box of pocky out of the side pocket of his bag. “Think you answered that question for yourself, dude.”

Akira just pouts at him, eyes glowering, and Ryuji laughs at his pitiful face as he plays with the top of the box and splits the cardboard open. Akira’s eyes suddenly open wider, watching intently as Ryuji works his fingers against the plastic bag sitting inside and tearing it open. The chocolate smell that wafts up from it is far from the most overwhelming thing, but it’s definitely present.

It takes Ryuji a second after he gets one of the sticks into his mouth that he notices Akira is staring at him.

“What?” he asks with an eyebrow raise.

“Is that pocky?” Akira asks, almost stupidly. Of course it is, what other snack looks even remotely like this one?

“Yeah, I grabbed some from a little shop in the train station on the way here.” he answers, the stick he’d started munching on hanging out of and flailing about from his mouth as he speaks.

Akira’s got a look on his face now, one that speaks interest and intent. Suddenly his legs are flipping over to hang off the edge of the bed with his feet resting on the floor, and his hands rest on each of his legs. Ryuji’s expression is no less confused, but instinct tells him to hold up the box to Akira.

“Want one?” he offers, giving it a little shake.

Akira smiles at the box, but it’s far from innocent looking. “I think I know what we can play.”

Okay, now even Ryuji’s a little interested. “What’s that?”

Akira claps his hands together once as he leans closer to the floor. “The other day Ann was telling me about this game she plays with Shiho sometimes. It’s called the Pocky Game, I think, and you’re supposed to hold the pocky in your mouth and keep biting off parts of it until someone backs off.”

Ryuji pauses, “Wait, you mean like, in each other’s mouths?

Akira looks at him expectantly, his smile almost urging him to go on.

“At the same time?”

Akira nods, “Yep, that exactly.”

Ryuji shifts his body and leans his arm on his now propped leg, box still in hand, but he’s trying to make sure he holds it upright so the contents don’t all spill out onto the floor. “Why the hell do you wanna play somethin’ like that?”

Akira just shrugs like it’s the most normal thing he’s ever suggested in his entire life. “‘Cuz we’re bored and I thought it might be something to do.”

Ryuji’s eyebrow is so far raised off his face he can feel it stretching the top of his forehead. The Pocky Game… it sounded like a game that only girls played. One where they were like best friends and even the closest of contact isn’t even half an issue. Ryuji can only imagine how many people have caused accidents while playing something like this.

But Akira’s smiling, such an intent little smirk on his face like he’s scheming and plotting, and Ryuji’s not a gigantic fan of it if he’s honest.

“I dunno, man.” he answers a bit hesitantly. “I mean, it sounds like a _game_ , sure. But I don’t really know how fun or practical that is?”

And Akira’s face is changing now, _oh is it ever changing_ , and that smirk is turning into the damndest and most smug smile Ryuji’s ever seen in his goddamn life. It's worse than just about any face he’d ever seen his counterpart as Joker make in the Metaverse, and the bastard was already bad enough there.

“Sounds like you’re scared or something.” Akira says, holding his arms folded behind his head and leaning back onto the bed.

“Wait,” Ryuji counters, his voice chasing Akira’s lax position. “What the hell do you mean scared?”

He can hear Akira chuckling and it already starts to make his blood boil.

“I just thought it’d be something fun. But I mean if you’re too chicken to take up the challenge we can always find something else to do.” he assures, the cockiness covering every bit of his tone like deep sinking venom.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he protests, sitting up on his knees and looking over the edge of the bed to see Akira just _laying there_ all smug as shit, eyes closed like he’s daydreaming. His damn leg is propped up on the other now and he’s bouncing it up and down so leisurely.

“Nothing.” he says, almost whimsically. “It’s no biggie, we don’t have to play.” he adds, opening one eye and looking up at Ryuji. There’s a hint of mocking playing beneath his lashes, and it makes Ryuji want to sock him in the arm right then and there.

He wants to pit a challenge? Fine, Ryuji’s not going to back down.

“Eff it whatever man, let’s go!” he says, crunching the pocky already in his mouth till it disappears and grabbing another one from its pouch. He jumps off the floor and lands onto Akira’s bed, shaking the other teen while he laughs and prompting him to sit up next to his best friend. Ryuji’s sticking one leg underneath the other and fiddling with the stick in his hand as Akira turns his body towards him, already a little nervous.

“So what do we have to do?” he asks, somewhat dumbly. It seems pretty straightforward and all but he’s not about to go into this acting like he knows what to do.

Akira offers his hand to Ryuji, and Ryuji hands him the pocky piece he’s holding. “It’s easy,” he says, bringing the piece up closer to his mouth. “All we have to do is each take an end of this in our mouths and keep eating some of it. If you bite or break your piece off because we’re too close, you lose.”

“What the hell kinda game is this?” Ryuji mutters, barely above a breath, but Akira isn’t listening to him.

“So I’ll take my piece,” he starts, placing the side of the pocky not covered in chocolate into his mouth, still in his fingers. “And you take yours.” he finishes, the breadstick in his mouth making his words not quite connect.

Ryuji pulls his lips into the left of his face for a moment, but relents after a second and leans his face forward to take the other end in his mouth. His lips close around it, and he can already feel the chocolate wanting to melt against his tongue that’s instinctively pressed against it.

“Want the first move?” Akira asks through his teeth. Ryuji’s not sure, but he shrugs and gives the tiniest nod so not to break the stick. Then he opens his lips and slides his mouth over the stick, taking the tiniest bit before he bites down.

Akira follows suit after him, and immediately takes a significantly larger bite, not an ounce of the non-chocolate covered breadstick left between them now.

Ryuji starts to backpedal, “Dude what the hell!”

“Part of the game.” he answers way too smoothly.

Their faces are so close now, probably the most intimately so that they’ve ever been, but that damn smirk on Akira's face is telling Ryuji he's more than ready to keep this game going. That's fine. Ryuji can keep up. If anyone in this world knows how to put their money where their mouth is it's definitely him. He's not planning on backing down from the challenge dripping off the smug ass smile covering Akira's lips. Ryuji takes a larger bite, and now their noses are maybe a few centimeters apart.

Akira takes another bite immediately after, the distance between them exponentially shortening at too rapid a pace. Ryuji can already feel the puckering in his lips, the muscles wanting so desperately to just fall back and let Akira win this round, but then he winks. The bastard _fucking winks at him_ , and all that pull back is gone. Ryuji matches his play, and almost all the chocolate has disappeared between the two of them.

It's so close now, and they're both starting to realize it. Ryuji feels satisfied, Akira probably thought he had this in the bag. Silly game his ass, he just wanted to make Ryuji squirm and have a victory on him in a game for once, but unluckily for him the former track star isn't one to back down from a challenge of any kind. He can already see Akira's eyes shifting some to the side, giving him a nervous air that he's not particularly used to seeing from his normally calm and collected leader, but if he's honest it's kind of a fun sight. He likes seeing that kind of look on Akira’s face, he thinks.

Then Akira takes another bite. A small one. Damn it. And the smile comes back like it had never left. He can tell Akira loves the way his eyebrows are shooting up into his hair.

God they're so close that they can feel one another's breath, and Ryuji has two options now. He either folds, lets Akira have his victory and allows him to rub it in, or he plays the field. There's no way that Akira will be able to fight back if he tries again. There'll barely be any of the sweet breadstick left, and he'll have to bite his piece off completely and fold. It's dangerous though, and he knows that. In the long run it's probably the easier route to just let the idiot have his fun.

But Ryuji isn't a quitter, he wants to beat Akira "I'm in charge" Kurusu at his own game.

He takes a small, experimental nibble with just the tops of his teeth, and he can already see a knowing gleam in Akira's eye, thinking that he's about to sacrifice his victory over to the frizzy haired cocky shit. But Ryuji is ready to surprise him. He moves his jaw again, balancing the sweet cookie between his lips and rolling it in his teeth, mourning the loss of the chocolate flavor he'd all but melted with the heat of his mouth, and hops his teeth to take another bite.

He's not sure what happened. Maybe he miscalculated. Maybe he just took too much at a time. Maybe Akira shifted some. But for whatever reason it may be, that last bite gives him the barest contact with Akira's lips.

Both of them flail backwards instantly with a gasp, red as tomatoes all the way down to their collarbones. Ryuji nearly falls backwards off the bed he's so in shock, but Akira manages to grab his arm just before he goes falling backwards into the chair next to the bedroom's workbench. They're both sweating some, and honestly neither one of them can tell if it's because of the heat or what just went down, but neither is helping.

They're sitting upright on the bed now, silent and stilled. Akira's got a hand in his hair, fingers stretching back and forth against the top of his scalp, while Ryuji's sliding his fingers against one another as he fists fabric from Akira's sheets underneath them. Neither of them are looking at the other, they both have their eyes planted firmly on a spot somewhere around the room as a central focus point, either trying to wrap their head around what just happened or try to pretend like it never did.

This was inevitable wasn't it? They both should have known something like this had the potential to happen, but neither one of them stopped it.

A minute passes and the tension in the air still hasn't let up. Ryuji's the first one to let his unsure voice fight through the thick of it.

"Well, uh..." he starts, one arm shifting to scratch the back of his neck while he looks even farther away from Akira (man who knew how many tiny peculiar things Akira had on his workbench). "That was... fun I guess?"

"Mm." Akira agrees wordlessly, and Ryuji's not sure but it feels like he nodded as it came out. "Guess you won."

"Y-yeah." Ryuji says, his voice cracking a small laugh as he smiles nervously at nothing. "Guess I did."

They don't talk about it the rest of the day. The tension dies down after a while, and Ryuji's put up the pocky as soon as he starts to feel it dissipate, trying to make sure out of the corner of his eye that Akira doesn't watch him do it. They do more distracting things from that point on, things where they don't have to speak as much. They play games they've already beaten, read Ryuji's mangas they've already skimmed through, and when dinner rolls around they're mostly silent. It leaves a bad taste in both of their mouths, but neither are sure they can trust the words that might come out of their mouths at this point.

Ryuji walks to the train station earlier than usual, without Akira. There's a small sinking feeling in his gut when he suggests it, but he believes at this point that he needs as much time as he can get to think about what happened earlier that afternoon on his own. His head is almost fuzzy, feeling like he’s filled up to the brim with stuffing of a sort, and he can’t exactly wrap his senses around the exact feeling. Either way though, he’s not a gigantic fan of it. He hopes that maybe it was just too hot up there and that’s why he feels so light headed.

Akira is sitting up in his room in silence. He’s on the floor, one leg stuck out, the other pulled in so his elbow can rest on it and his hand can rummage itself in his hair. He’s no better off than Ryuji is, his mind wanting to replay the situation that occurred over and over again for whatever reason he couldn’t quite understand.

It was… _weird_ . And maybe it shouldn’t have been. It was just an accident, wasn’t it? Ryuji hadn’t meant to… you know? _Kiss_ … him. They were just playing a game, that kind of thing was supposed to happen, or at least it was supposed to be the thing that was being avoided.

He had been acting cocky, he knows that. He was giving Ryuji looks and playing mind games like he always does, and he was so sure that he’d had it all under control. It was supposed to be funny, just something to do on a bored summer’s day. But it accidentally escalated into something so much more, and it was clouding every piece of Akira’s judgement.

Morgana returns home not much later, cocking his head to the side at Akira’s less than kept together appearance. He questions it a bit, but Akira waves him off. The last person he feels like he can explain it to is him, and he probably wouldn’t want to hear it that much anyways. Morgana is visibly skeptical, but he relents and Akira couldn’t be even close to more appreciative of that.

When the night starts to roll around, he doesn’t even bother fighting the need for the evening to die down. He does everything in silence. He heads to the bath house and soaks without a word (and maybe dives his head under the water once or twice when his face gets too hot), gets his laundry out from the laundromat and makes sure his uniform is ready for the school day, and doesn’t even bother worrying over making lockpicks or strategizing for the next Metaverse move. They have nothing to worry about for the time being, it should be fine, yet nothing feels like it really is right now.

The whole while, Akira’s thoughts are being plagued by Ryuji. The way that his lips feathered over his for not even an entire second. The way both of them fell backwards as soon as they felt it, probably wanting to scream but fighting the urge. The awkward silence that ensued immediately after. It’s all blanketing over him and he doesn’t really know how to feel or what he should do it about it.

All the thoughts stay though, his mind consistently yelling for his best friend. Ryuji, _Ryuji,_ **_Ryuji_ **. Things like this shouldn’t be happening to him, and yet they are, and he can’t help but fist big pools of his messy hair through his fingers as he tries to get all the thoughts out of his mind.

It was an accident. It was all an accident and nothing more and it didn’t need to be anything more. It was an accident and they should be able to go about their lives as normal and not worry about it anymore. But for whatever reason, Akira can’t seem to break his focus off of it.

What the hell is he doing, he thinks. Why the hell is he wanting so much more clarity over it? Those are the only thoughts taking him into the night as he lays with his hands folded across his chest, staring up at his star covered ceiling rafters.

* * *

 

All the while, Ryuji is fairing marginally less well than Akira is.

He’s not as silent about it. As soon as he gets home he throws his bag down, part of him hoping that the package of the cursed snack breaks with the impact. He growls, throwing off his tank top and slamming his body into the bed back first, angrily pressing his fists over his eyes like he’s trying to push the memories out of his head.

He’s stupid, he is so fucking _stupid_ . He didn’t mean to do something like that, he didn’t mean to fucking _kiss Akira_. He should have been thinking more clearly, should have told Akira from the get-go that it was a stupid idea and not let him play into him like a damn fiddle. But that’s what Akira was good at doing, playing into things to get them to be the way he wants. That’s why he’s so good at messing with damn shadows.

Ryuji’s confused though, so confused, because he can’t get it off his mind. He can’t get the image of Akira’s face so close to his to vanish the way that he desperately wants it to, and he doesn’t understand why. They’d had moments where they were a little too close before, little things like coming together to whisper a plan to execute or if Akira had to get close to Ryuji to heal a wound sustained in battle, but this was so different. This time Ryuji is remembering every little bit of Akira’s face. Every which way the skin rests on his cheek bones and the impeccably tiny little imperfections that still make him flawless.

He’s not used to feeling like this-- this super weird pain in his chest that makes him feel like he’s been smashed into a brick wall. It makes him want to hide away, suffocate himself underneath his sheets and never have to see the sun again, and he doesn’t understand it at all.

His biggest fear permeating his mind is that he just ruined his friendship with Akira. That’s definitely possible isn’t it? He feels like there are definitely people who go through something traumatic like this and it rips them apart like stuck together band-aids. Though, the logical part of him thinks it may be a little dramatic to consider this traumatic.

There’s really only one thing he can think to do, and he sits up in his bed for a moment to find his phone that he chucked somewhere within the mess of sheets, desperately throwing the fabric beneath him around until he finally finds it laying underneath the comforter.

 

**_dumb blond squad (Message received 11:43 PM)_ **

**_ryuji: hey u up?_ **

**_ann: ye its not tht late. need somethn?_ **

**_ryuji: i think i effed up big time ann_ **

**_ann: whatd u do this time?_ **

**_ryuji: u kno that dumb pocky game shit u talked to akira bout?_ **

**_ryuji: the one where you eat it together n stuff_ **

**_ryuji: we played it bcuz akira wanted to and uh_ **

**_ann: wait you fucking played the POCKY GAME?_ **

**_ryuji: ann i dont kno wtf happened_ **

**_ryuji: i think i… i think i kissed him by accident_ **

**_ann: ur joking_ **

**_ryuji: not joking_ **

**_ann: OMFG LMAO_ **

**_ann: i cant believe this rite now i want to scream_ **

**_ryuji: me 2, different reason tho_ **

**_ann: how the hell did you let that happen???_ **

**_ryuji: idk we were just playin and he was bein cocky so i thought i could beat him out_ **

**_ryuji: guess i went too far_ **

**_ann: so u were the kisser_ **

**_ryuji: idk im pretty sure it was both of us?_ **

**_ann: okay but did he kiss back???_ **

**_ryuji: wtf kinda question is that?????_ **

**_ann: srry was just playin. whats the big deal, sounds like it was an accident_ **

**_ryuji: it was but… idk_ **

**_ryuji: i cant stop thinkin about it_ **

**_ryuji: like its buggin the shit outta me i cant get it off my mind_ **

**_ryuji: and like im scared cuz like, is he mad at me?_ **

**_ann: did u ask him?_ **

**_ryuji: i mean no, i went home a lil while after. never asked_ **

**_ann: id be willing to bet he probs isnt mad. u should talk to him_ **

**_ryuji: yeh i kno_ **

**_ann: is that rlly all tho? ur just scared hes mad?_ **

**_ryuji: kinda_ **

**_ryuji: idk_ **

**_ryuji: i keep thinking about his face n shit_ **

**_ryuji: like how close it was to mine_ **

**_ryuji: and i cant seem to think about like… anything else_ **

**_ann: omfg_ **

**_ann: holy shit am i watching a gay awakening rite before my eyes?_ **

**_ryuji: what the actual hell_ **

**_ann: y do u keep thinking about his face_ **

**_ryuji: hell if i kno! thats y i was textin u!_ **

**_ann: ryuji think about it for a sec_ **

**_ann: y would this be bothering u so much_ **

**_ann: i mean u gotta admit akiras pretty hot_ **

**_ryuji: wtf ann_ **

**_ann: tell me im wrong u wont_ **

**_ryuji: hell man idk, i just want it to go away_ **

**_ryuji: my chest hurts so bad rn. like my heart wont stop beatin_ **

**_ann: well do u kno what u wanna do about it?_ **

**_ryuji: what can i do?_ **

**_ann: well for starters u should talk to akira_ **

**_ann: but the rest is kinda up to u tbh_ **

**_ryuji: part of me almost wants to try it again_ **

**_ann: try what again?_ **

**_ryuji: the game_ **

**_ryuji: like, idk what it is but i cant get that lil kiss outta my head_ **

**_ryuji: like it was barely anythin but if its buggin me this bad_ **

**_ryuji: but maybe if i do it again it wont be so bad? like atleast ill kno right?_ **

**_ryuji: what the eff is wrong with me..._ **

**_ann: ask him_ **

**_ryuji: how the hell am i sposed to do that???_ **

**_ann: just tell him u wanna play again_ **

**_ryuji: theres no way he’ll wanna do that_ **

**_ann: its worth a shot though isnt it?_ **

**_ann: do u want me to talk to him about it?_ **

**_ryuji: hell no!_ **

**_ann: jeez meanie_ **

**_ryuji: srry just… thats a bad idea_ **

**_ryuji: i kinda wanna figure this out on my own_ **

**_ann: already failed that didnt u?_ **

**_ryuji: u kno what i mean_ **

**_ryuji: i wanna do it but i guess i need help_ **

**_ann: alrite look, i gotchu_ **

**_ann: stuff like this is weird, ive been thru it before_ **

**_ryuji: shiho?_ **

**_ann: maybe :3c_ **

**_ryuji: what should i do then?_ **

**_ann: well heres what i have in mind_ **

**_…_ **

* * *

 

The next day Akira is unfocused, more so than he’s ever been in class. He’s looking out the window, staring at his notes, fiddling with his pencil and the collar of his shirt, and definitely not paying any attention to any of the lecturing happening at the front of the room. He’s snapped at once or twice and gets a piece of chalk to the face, it’s almost exam time after all, but at least Kawakami is a bit more merciful towards him. She gives him an interested glance every now and again, but doesn’t pay it much mind. He’s usually on top of things anyways.

He’s struggling, still unable to get the events from the previous night off his mind. He thinks repeatedly that it shouldn’t be bothering him, yet it continues to. It’s admittedly a bit frustrating to deal with. It’s made him quiet, nervous, and without a doubt lacking his usual activeness and charm. A few of his friends have texted throughout the day, and he just can’t bring himself to respond to them. Morgana’s getting a more curious look on his face every time he hears Akira’s phone buzz.

He pesters him about it here and there, not just about his phone but his attitude in general (he’s been acting weird since yesterday apparently), but Akira’s always dismissive. He really doesn’t want to talk about it, not with anyone but Ryuji anyways. And he’s honestly not even sure if he’s ready for that.

Ann gives him a side glance about four times during class, and she looks uncharacteristically sly at least one of those times. It makes Akira’s heart sink with worry just a little, but he knows better than to think he has something to worry about from her. At least, he hopes.

When class ends Morgana is frustrated and lets Akira know he will be dismissing himself to spend the day with Lady Ann. That’s fine he thinks, and Akira offers him up to her at his vampant request. She surprisingly takes him without an argument, chuckling to herself as she walks off with the cat in tow and leaving Akira somewhat suspicious. But at least Morgana is happy and out of his hair, so he doesn’t care all that much.

He sighs as he turns out of the classroom and towards the stairs, about to start making his way home, when he hears a familiar voice call him from behind.

“Yo, Akira!”

He turns to see Ryuji jogging down the hallway, hand waving in the air to get his attention. Immediately he feels his heart skip a bit, eyes widened and mouth gaping somewhat nervously. Ryuji seems to notice as he comes up and his shoulders droop as he pouts.

“Hey, you feelin’ alright, dude?” he asks.

Akira forces a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Ryuji doesn’t buy it, of course, and Akira watches him scratch the back of his head somewhat nervously. His stance has shifted, and there’s little tremors going through his body as he bounces his right leg up and down like he does when he’s uncomfortable. Akira doesn’t like it.

“Hey look, man,” he starts, “I’m really sorry about yesterday. It was kind of an accident.”

And just like that his heart is racing, and he can feel a small heat creeping up in his face. And maybe Ryuji knows the feeling because Akira can see it on his face too, the color trying its best to rival the red of the t-shirt he’s wearing.

But Akira pushes forward anyways, desperate to make light of the newfound tension between them and make this issue fade away. “Not a problem. Accidents happen, right? It wasn’t a big deal.” he assures with a smile.

Ryuji matches his expression without skipping a beat. “That’s good to hear, because honestly, I was thinkin’ we should do a rematch.”

 _That_ was probably the last sentence Akira had ever expected to float out of Ryuji’s mouth.

“A… a rematch?” he repeats, trying to see if he’d heard him correctly.

“Yeah, man.” he says, the look on his face sheepish, but the look in his eyes is intent. "Listen, I know that yesterday was a disaster but like... we should try again. I feel like I cheated the game a bit and it threw you off, and that wasn’t fair. I wanna give you a fair shot."

He feels confused. He remembers last night when Ryuji flew backwards away from him, the look on his face full of shock and fear, and he was probably matching it if he’s honest with himself. The awkwardness between them for the rest of the day was palpable, and they hadn’t talked much since the incident; no texts or anything sent between the two of them.

But most importantly, he can remember the weird feeling it left him with, the almost hurt that it brought to his chest the longer they’d spent together in silence after the fact. So to get this suggestion put between them or of nowhere was certainly cause for questioning.

“I mean, are you sure about that?” Akira asks, a hand going in his pocket while the other grabs at his neck. “I’m not necessarily against it but-”

“So you’re in?” Ryuji asks, a bit quickly.

Akira’s suddenly _very_ interested now, more so than he feels he was at any point of time that this game had come into their lives, and all it took was that excited little tone in Ryuji’s voice reaching his ears and sending an unexpected thrill down his spine-- so he _definitely_ wants to play again. It’s surprising to him how much internal relief and excitement that brings him, having not expected for a second that something as small as a little pocky game would have also clearly been on the mind of his best friend, but it was.

He doesn’t really take the time to question why his adrenaline is pulsing and why he’s so invested in this, but _god he wants to_.

He chuckles, his smile suddenly turning a lot less innocent. “Pretty sad if you felt like you had to cheat when I was going easy on you.”

Ryuji’s face falls the second he says it. “Wait, what?”

Akira shrugs and closes his eyes and pushes up his glasses. “It’s not a hard game, I thought I was being pretty chill about it since it was our first time, but then you had to go and cheat like you said.” He opens one eye to look directly at him, “But yeah, I guess I’ll have to stop going easy on you.”

“Like hell you were goin’ easy, but whatever, you’re on!” Ryuji challenges, way too loud since some girls walking past them are definitely staring, but he doesn’t really care. The look on his face is determined as can be, and Akira finds himself quietly loving every bit of it.

They head off towards LeBlanc together, but neither of them let the other know just how quickly their hearts are beating.

* * *

 

Within the first day of their second game, they’re already on the tenth round about seven minutes after entering LeBlanc. Ryuji’s annoyed, some of the pieces from the box are broken from his recklessness last night, but Akira’s encouraging it anyways, the show must go on. The try to use the largest ones in majority, but the smaller ones are getting used too, almost indiscriminately as the game goes on. Eventually Ryuji’s not even looking in the box as he sticks his hand inside to pull out another one.

Each game has different results. Sometimes Akira will win, and then Ryuji, or there’ll be two or three wins in a row with the other vehemently demanding another round. It’s as intense as schoolyard wrestling without all the force, and certainly with its other more defining differences.

Each time they play their faces or close, sometimes closer than others, and on occasion, their lips accidentally meet again. Neither one of them reacts the same way they did the first time though, because now it’s become part of the game, like any other game that has grazes and skin touching. This is just part of that, and neither is complaining about it.

They also certainly aren’t bringing up if their lips touch longer than usual.

Ryuji’s becoming more interested in the feeling every time it happens. They’re never fully pressed together, but he can tell that Akira’s lips are soft. He likes the way they feel, like he moisturizes them every day, and a part of him wants to ask what kind of chapstick he uses, but doesn’t to avoid the awkwardness.

He also starts to notice other things he likes. He likes the way Akira’s breath is like a mix of coffee with a small hint of chocolate and sugar. He likes the way Akira playfully rolls the pocky in his mouth before taking his turns in the game. He likes the way his eyes move in interest as Ryuji makes his moves against the candy.

He quietly wonders to himself how Akira feels about him being so close.

There’s a round between them with an incredibly small piece, barely even enough to be considered half of a pocky stick, but they proceed anyways. Ryuji gets the first turn, playing his odds and taking a pretty significant bite out of it. Akira doesn’t back away from it, leaning in to take one to match it, and the round is clearly over because there’s nothing left between them. Their lips touch again, and it’s harder this time, harder than any of the last times, and Ryuji’s eyes are open and staring straight ahead with Akira in his face.

When he pulls away and licks the remaining chocolate off his lips, Ryuji’s heart is racing. Akira’s smiling like he won but he doesn’t even care. He figures out pretty fast that he wants nothing more than to just see that again.

Ryuji reaches into the box for another piece and finds nothing. He looks down, his mind going into sheer panic, only to find that the box is empty.

“Oh…” he says, his voice somewhat breathless. “We’re out.”

“Really?” Akira asks, and god does he sound _disappointed_? Maybe he is, they were having fun.

They call it a rest for the day, but the visual of Akira’s tongue swiping across his lips doesn’t leave Ryuji’s mind for the rest of the night.

The next day when they're back at the cafe after school, Akira opens his bag and reveals about seven different colored boxes of pocky on his bed, laying them out the way one would a deck of cards, claiming that he found them at a convenience store on his way to school. Ryuji’s giving him a look, but Akira simply says, “I thought it might be fun to try some different flavors, vary the game up a little.” Ryuji doesn’t find an ounce of him that’s upset with the idea.

They go through every box at least once, some of them far more than that. They’re keeping score but they’re starting to keep track of it less and less as the day goes on. Akira starts to notice that Ryuji gets flushed the longer he stays close to him, and he keeps wanting to see his expression change. Sometimes he gets nervous and looks away, and other times he’s more playful (mostly when he wins), eyes lowered even though he can see that he’s clenching his jaw really tightly. It’s cute, way too cute, and he can’t help but keep trying to play into it.

He finds out that day that his favorite flavor to taste on Ryuji’s lips is matcha; Ryuji’s favorite is strawberry.

The fourth day has them scrambling with far fewer boxes than they’d started with. Akira stares at the pile with a longing look, his eyes full of intent, but Ryuji reads it and backs him off of the idea he knows is forming in his head. He’s already spent plenty on this lot, and if they can’t afford new weapons and armor by the time another challenge for the team rolls around, Akira will never hear the end of it. That would especially be the case if the team had any idea where all this money was fleeing to.

They live off the few flavors they have left, whatever ones weren’t as popular from yesterday, but all of them are still equally good. Each round lasts longer than usual, like they're trying to stretch out what little means they have, and neither seem to mind.

Ryuji almost hates to admit to himself that half of his fun is discovering the way the flavors are mixing both in terms of scent, and the taste against Akira’s mouth. The first few aren’t great, a weird mix of cookies and cream, coffee, and maybe even a little of what Akira had for lunch earlier that day. The further along they go though, the sweeter they get. Eventually he tastes a mix of lemon and almond, something that should seem weird, yet with the defined taste and smell of Akira mixed with them, is absolutely addicting. One particular round of it makes him bolder than he should be, and he bites down far and quick and gets to loom across Akira’s lips probably way longer than what he’d deem appropriate.

He wants to press his tongue between them so badly to get a better taste of it. The thought alone makes him go beet red and back away before he does something stupid. He’s a little surprised when he sees that Akira’s cheeks look equally rosy.

He really likes that look on his face.

Sojiro calls up to Akira to come help out downstairs before they get the chance to play again, and the game is forced to end. Ryuji goes home early, having an embarrassingly difficult time walking as he makes his way to the train. If text messages had sound, that night Ann’s laughter would have been ringing in his ears for hours.

They’re left with only one box the next day that they play, and if that weren’t already irritating enough, Morgana’s been getting suspicious of why Akira has been so quick to shoo him away for the day or hand him off to Ann’s overly gracious self for the past few days. He allows it one last time, only for the sake of making sure Lady Ann isn’t lonely he says, but Akira has a feeling that his Pocky Game days are coming to an end. He’s determined to make these last few rounds count for what they’re worth though, and luckily, whether he knows it or not, Ryuji deeply shares that sentiment.

Ann was hyping him last night about one of his more pressing and lingering thoughts. He wanted to ignore it, but honestly she’d made points that he couldn’t.

The only box they have left is the banana flavor, which isn’t bad, but definitely isn’t one of the top picks. It doesn’t stop them though, and personally, Ryuji really likes the way it goes with the ever present coffee taste on Akira’s mouth. It’s rich and bitter mixed with the strange and slightly sweetened fruity flavor, and it’s honestly not half bad. He wishes they had more flavors, even as plain as chocolate, because he imagines the flavor potential would be irresistible.

It gets to the point where there’s only two sticks left in the box, and it’s gotten intense. Akira’s won the last three rounds in a row, which is agitating Ryuji beyond belief. Regardless of any underlying intent or purpose, this is still a game, and Ryuji’ll be damned if he lets Akira get the last hurrah when this is all said and done.

They set up like normal, still apart from one another on the bed, balancing the breadstick between them with a fragile skill they’ve clearly spent way too long getting the hang of. Akira won the last round so he gets the first move, a small bite, not much progress being made at all. Ryuji makes a near identical move, and even with the shortened length they’re still a decent distance from one another. It’s enticing to want to go farther and shorten that distance quicker, but even he’s smart enough to realize that the second all the pocky’s gone the game ends, and then there’s far less chances for him to graze himself across Akira’s lips.

When the hell did that start becoming a priority?

Akira takes another bite, and it’s still small, almost aggravatingly so. Ryuji’s never wanted this game to go faster and yet slower at the same time, and it conflicts with him to a degree he doesn’t quite get. Even so, he matches the pace, only taking another small nibble, and it almost pisses him off when he notices Akira’s smile and sees that there’s still a little sliver of uncovered stick just past his lips. He’s been watching Akira’s lips a lot lately; how they move, how they wrap around the pocky with such delicateness, and definitely how his tongue like to flit across them every now and then.

Ryuji idly wonders what his tongue would feel like swiping across his lips instead, and has to banish that thought away before it pulls him under.

The game continues on that way for a few more bites, all of them being fairly small, making the game last about three minutes longer than it might normally. They’re maybe about two inches apart by the time they’ve gone through three passes, and it’s Akira’s turn again. Ryuji’s watching him closely, eagerly anticipating his next move and planning on matching it to a tee.

What he doesn’t expect is Akira pulling back and breaking off Ryuji’s end, sucking that shit right into his mouth.

Ryuji’s mouth falls agape, completely stunned, and Akira is smiling. He’s fierce and cocky, eyelids lowered and giving Ryuji this entirely eager and coaxing look, one that’s provoking as can be.

His eyes say “ _Come get it._ ”

_Oh hell fucking no._

Ryuji dives after him, his lips crashing onto Akira’s while his hands grab at his arms and firmly pin him onto the bed beneath them. His tongue is breaching almost as soon as he does so, opening Akira’s lips with his own and letting it scour his mouth, trying to find that damn piece of pocky that Akira’s taken off with like an asshole. He feels like he might have it after a second, finding really what only feels like remnants from it starting to decay in his mouth, but then he stops for a second.

Stops and realizes that, _god_ , he _really_ likes how Akira tastes.

It’s one thing to taste the remnants from his lips after a little peck from the game, but this. This is a whole new extraordinary level that he’d never even dreamt of, and Akira must like the position he’s in too because he’s definitely not trying to fight him off. In fact, if anything, he’s clearly more than willing to play along with it, letting Ryuji keep him pinned right where he wants without a fight and just letting him do exactly what he wants.

Exactly what he’s wanted to do for days.

He’s starting to forget why he even started this in the first place, and releases Akira from his grip, keeping the other teen beneath him while one hand goes straight into the black hole that is his hair, pulling on the back of his neck and cradling his head to gain a better advantage. Akira’s quick to respond and lets his arms wrap around Ryuji’s neck instinctively, and they slot there perfectly like they were always meant to be there, holding Ryuji against him and keeping his mouth constantly within reach.

Even when they’re pulling apart, it’s only to breathe, and Akira’s nipping on Ryuji’s bottom lip or Ryuji is swiping his tongue across Akira’s mouth. Ryuji gets brave and tries an attempt at a nibble himself, and it startles a small noise out of Akira, one that he’s never heard before or expected him to make. He’s cautious, unsure if it’s something he should continue, but when he does it again, lightly, the same thing happens and Akira is shifting underneath him, and Ryuji suddenly realizes that he likes the way they sound. So he keeps doing it, only occasionally, not wanting to overstep whatever little boundaries he hasn’t already crossed, and every noise is sweeter than the last.

Every time he does it he gets the reward of tasting Akira again, his mouth falling open just enough to grant him that access, and that’s the only reward he could have ever asked for. Looking back on it later, there’s really no way in hell either one of them will be able to excuse this as part of the game anymore.

He’s not sure when it stops, or how even, but there’s a point where they’re breaking apart somewhere along the line. They keep their distance this time, breaths mingled and shallowed within the incredibly small space between them, and their eyes are barely open while they’re looking at each other.

And that’s when it starts to hit Ryuji that, wow, _fuck_ , Akira is so cute like this. Mouth hung open only enough to show teeth, face flushed completely red and the tips of his ears perfectly matching, eyes shining just barely between the slit of his eyelids, and hair mangled and ravaged like he was caught in a storm. His school polo is bunched, hiked up over Ryuji’s hand (when the hell did that get there) and collecting against his neck, glasses laying astrew, and dear god it’s so attractive. It’s an image he wants to keep forever, one that he wishes he could just stare at constantly and hug close to his chest like it belongs to him.

But of course logic is bound to hit him, and as his heart sinks out of nowhere he pushes his arms up and backwards as his eyes go wide, staring down at his best friend who’s still underneath him, the look on his face suddenly very expectant.

Ryuji’s caught in his gaze, his mouth dry as a desert, and he swallows. “What the eff…”

“You okay?” Akira asks, and he’s still not quite catching his breath.

“D-dude…” he stutters. “Did… did we just make out?”

Akira blinks, his face still relatively blank at the question, even while Ryuji is ready to shake the answer out of him.

“I don’t know about that,” he breathes, “but I’m pretty sure I fucking won that round.”

And like nothing, they’re laughing, hysterically. Laughing so hard that there’s tears wanting to fall from their eyes and they’re gasping for air. Ryuji’s hardly even holding himself up anymore, letting his head fall and touch Akira’s forehead as their laughter mingles with one another and creates a symphony of sound so sweet he’s wishing he could keep it on replay.

“We could always play again.” Akira suggests through a giggle. “There’s still another piece left, right?”

“God, _eff that!_ ” Ryuji shouts, swatting the box that’s still on the bed next to them across the room like it never did him any favors. “You really think after that I need an effin’ piece of candy to get me to do that shit again?”

Akira smirks, “Wow, Ryuji. If you’d wanted to make out with me this badly, you could have just asked instead of making us go through this little charade.”

“Shut the hell up.” he says, grinning like an idiot, and Akira’s laughing as he pushes him back down to press his mouth against his again. “I’m gunna get that taste out of your effin’ smart mouth if it’s the last god damned thing I do.” he promises between obnoxious smooches.

Akira chuckles with Ryuji’s mouth against his. “I dare you to try.”

**Author's Note:**

> Two bros, chillin' in an attic, zero feet apart cuz they're super gay.
> 
> Come scream at me on tumblr!: [MusicalDefiance](http://musicaldefiance.tumblr.com/)


End file.
